Texas Summer

by Hachtel, Leslie

  He moved his hand down to her buttocks. That she wore no panties never ceased to amaze him. His erection was painful against the fabric of his jeans. With some knowing instinct, she sank to her knees and unzipped his pants, exposing him. She teased the tip of him with her tongue, moving in agonizing circles around the edge, until he thought he could bear no more. She took him full in her mouth. He gasped at the pure sensation of it. She moved her hot mouth up and down until he feared he would explode. He put his hands on either side of her head holding her tight, and then lifted her. He dropped his pants and pulled her over to the bed.

  Clearly tormenting her with pleasure, he slid his tongue up her thigh to the dark triangle, almost there but stopping just as he was about to touch the hard knot between the moist lips of her core. She moaned as he repeated the agony on the other thigh.

  “Please,” she said.

  He parted her legs wide and blew gentle breaths along the soft, dark curls. Finally he moved to her center and licked along her hot, wet opening until she cried for mercy. But he did not relent. He sucked at her and then slid two fingers inside, adding the touch of his thumb to the movement of his tongue on the knot of pleasure. It was too much to bear. She cried out as her orgasm ripped through her.

  Before she could come back to earth, he slid inside her. He moved deeper and deeper. His body stiffened with its own release as he felt hers explode with him.

  The earth had settled, and they lay snuggled close, just on the precipice of sleep. Kennedy moved her mouth to Wylie’s ear and whispered, “I want you to meet my mama.”

  He didn’t say anything, just smiled in the dark.

  Kennedy left early the next morning to go to work. He felt her watching him before she stepped out the door. He lay there thinking about the curve of her neck where it rose above her collarbone. It took a sheer force of will to let her honor her other commitments and leave his side. It was funny, he thought as she closed the door behind her, how sometimes the smallest detail of a person could be so memorable.

  Wylie missed her and couldn’t get back to sleep, so he sat for a while and tried to write. A story dwelled in all this, as well as a potential future, and he didn’t want to miss any part of either one.

  He couldn’t seem to bring his thoughts into focus. He decided a walk might clear his head. A few minutes later, he was strolling down the main street, thinking about all that had transpired in such a short time. When Judy Jane virtually barreled into him, the force of the impact caught him by surprise.

  “Excuse me,” he apologized sarcastically.

  “Ain’t no excuse for you.”

  Wylie stared at the fat woman, who was really appreciating her joke. “Heard the sheriff’s going to put you away,” she sniped, “provided that bitch don’t kill you too.”

  He couldn’t manage to get upset by this ridiculous vitriol. Instead, he decided to be witty. “I’ll try and be strong.”

  “Laugh now. Just giving you fair warning.”

  “Thanks. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”

  “Just keep thinking with your zipper.”

  “I wish I’d said that.”

  Judy Jane frowned, obviously not getting the response she hoped for. She stomped down the street, her wide ass moving like two pigs fighting in a sack. Wylie stood for a moment and watched her go, totally confused by the force of her rage and all the twisted emotions that seemingly ran rampant in this quiet town.

  * * *

  Kennedy was starting her shift. She was tired but happy. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for this day, she had a beautiful man and maybe a happy future. She looked over at Norma, owner, cook, and friend. He had seen life from all the wrong sides of the tracks, but he had survived. Kennedy thought, not for the first time, his name alone must have certainly caused more than its share of fights. He had lost a daughter in an accident years ago. Kennedy wasn’t sure what happened to his wife, but she wasn’t around. He had come to town about five years ago and bought the diner. He had never explained why this backwater town. Maybe that was the reason. It was off the beaten path.

  Kennedy had been passing by one Saturday on her way to the grocery when she saw him through the window. He was grinning at her. He seemed like such a nice man, and he had worked so hard. Most of the townspeople tended to ignore him, but she felt a kinship with this barrel-chested bear of a man. She had gone in to congratulate him on a job well done. She had looked around at the new mingled with the old, the ambiance cozy and comforting.

  “You did good,” she said.

  “Thanks. I’ve worked hard.”

  “It shows.”

  “Norma.” He held out his hand.

  “Sorry?” She didn’t understand, and he burst out laughing. “Yep, that’s my name. I’ve fought long and hard to keep it.” No sign of bitterness marred his eyes, and she had to wonder at that.

  “That’s OK. Mine’s Kennedy. Not the easiest name either.”

  “How come you’re talking to me? Most folks around here act as if I don’t exist.”

  “So much for Southern hospitality,” she laughed. “Although I don’t think Texas is actually considered the South. It’s that you’re new here. It takes people a while to warm up. But since you’ll be the only real restaurant closer than Abilene, they’ll accept you pretty fast once you offer them good food. You will offer good food, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am. There’s not a lot I can claim to do well, but I can cook. You aren’t by any chance looking for a job?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Well, I sure could use a waitress.”

  Kennedy had been working in an office in Abilene, doing boring data entry and wondering what she should do with her life. The prospect of spending her days interacting with people, even these townspeople, and not having to make the drive every day was appealing. And she really liked this man.

  “When would I start?”

  He smiled broadly. “Today?” Was he teasing?

  “Funny. I have to give notice in my other job. Two weeks?”

  “Works for me. Have you ever waited tables before?”

  She laughed. “No. Does it matter? It seems you need me, and I don’t think waiting tables is brain surgery.”

  “Point taken. You kinda remind me of my daughter.” He seemed a little embarrassed by this.

  Most of the time, a hardness fell about his mouth, but it always softened when Kennedy came into the kitchen. His expression bore a kindness, more paternal than predatory. Norma grinned at her as she loaded her tray, then he went back to the stove.

  As she was leaving the kitchen, Kennedy almost collided headlong into Judy Jane.

  “Get out of my way,” Judy Jane barked. “Who do you think you are?”

  “Certainly not anyone like you,” Kennedy replied sweetly.

  Norma must’ve overheard the exchange because he called over his shoulder, “Judy Jane, lay off her.”

  “Fuck you.” She headed back to the dining room.

  As Kennedy entered the room behind her, Judy Jane addressed the diners like Vanna White introducing letters. “Look who’s here.” She indicated Kennedy. “Do you all really want her to serve you food? It’ll probably be poisoned.” Her voice was rising.

  Kennedy tried to move past her, but the bigger woman blocked her. “What have you got to say for yourself? Or are you too high and mighty?” She addressed her audience again. “She acts as if we’re all beneath her.” She was shouting now.

  Kennedy smiled. “But, Judy Jane, you are beneath me.”

  With that, Norma flung the door wide and came into the dining room. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded of Judy Jane. “I can hear you over the deep fryer.”

  “She’s a murderer. Her and her stupid boyfriend,” Judy Jane announced to the now-rapt crowd.

  “What is she talking about?” he demanded of Kennedy.

  “She’s crazy,” Kennedy said.

  Kennedy could see the love he had for
her, the protective, fatherly caring that would mandate his defense of her no matter what came. Kennedy was filled with emotion.

  Norma spoke to the room at large. “What are you all staring at? Ain’t nothin’ happening here. Eat your food.” But the crowd was riveted; no one moved. Norma’s was lately the most exciting place in town. Norma glared at Judy Jane. “Get out. You’re fired.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “No one wants her here, so you fire me?” She turned to the diners. “Am I right? You want a killer waiting on you?” The room buzzed with conversation.

  “No!” several voices called.

  “Shut up, Judy Jane, and go,” Norma ground out through clenched teeth.

  “That’s right, Norma. Keep protecting her, and you’ll go to jail with her. She’s guilty as sin. Just look at her.” The crowd nodded its agreement. They smelled blood, and the lust for it rose. Kennedy sensed it, softly laid her tray on the counter and stepped toward the kitchen.

  Norma grabbed her arm. “No.”

  “I have no choice and neither do you.” She worked herself out of his grasp.

  “We all have choices.”

  Judy Jane smiled. “Yeah, we all have choices. You just have to make the right ones.”

  “Yeah, Norma,” a voice called.

  “Get out of my sight, you fat bitch,” Norma snarled.

  Judy Jane appeared outraged. She looked back to the diners. “He’s trying to get rid of me so I won’t tell on her. He just wants to protect her. Are you all going to just sit there and let this happen?”

  One man stood up. It was Weir. “No, Norma. This ain’t right.”

  A woman stood up at another table. “Judy Jane didn’t do anything wrong, Norma. It’s that other one. She thinks she’s so much better than anyone else.”

  “See, Norma,” Judy Jane announced. “You fire me, you’ll have a riot on your hands.”

  “Judy Jane, you’re a bully now, and you’ve always been a bully. Now get out of here.” Then Norma faced the diners, his face a mask of amazement and confusion. “What’s wrong with you people? How can you let a pig like Judy Jane get you all riled up?”

  With that, Judy Jane picked up the tray Kennedy had laid on the counter and hurled it at Norma’s head. He ducked, but not quickly enough. The edge of the tray caught him in the temple and laid open part of his scalp. Blood poured from the wound.

  Kennedy reached out to Norma, horrified, but he spun around and lunged at Judy Jane, grabbing her by the wrists. Judy Jane shrieked in professed pain, and Weir was suddenly hurtling across the counter at Norma. Some of the other diners, both men and women, joined in the fight, while others stood against the walls. The place was in chaos. Kennedy backed toward the kitchen.

  Judy Jane obviously saw her retreat and cried out to no one in particular, “She’s getting away.”

  Weir pulled back from the melee and headed after Kennedy through the kitchen door. He caught her near the prep area, then flung himself at her, tackling her and throwing her to the floor. Panicked, she tried to scramble away. He was on top of her. He was clearly enjoying himself. Infuriated, she balled her hands into fists and punched at his eyes. They hit their targets. His head snapped back. Kennedy slid backward. She released her right leg enough to kick at his groin as hard as she could. He groaned and rolled to the side of her. She jumped up and grabbed a knife off the prep table, then brandished it at him. “Get out of here, Weir.”

  “You goddamned whore.” He lunged at her.

  She raised the knife, and it found its mark, burying itself in the curve of his right shoulder. He yelped in pain and disbelief.

  “You’re trying to kill me too,” he screamed.

  Kennedy wasn’t about to wait for Weir’s reinforcements to arrive. She jumped back out of his range and fairly flew through the back screen door.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Wylie returned from his walk and decided to hit the diner for lunch. Something told him he should go back to the motel first. He was a writer, so he always trusted his intuition, even though it was sometimes flawed.

  As he got near the place, he saw Kennedy sitting on the curb in front of his door. Her face was tearstained, and she looked so completely bereft. She didn’t seem to notice his approach, so he knelt beside her and reached out to take her hand. She jumped as if she had been burned, then relaxed when she saw who it was.

  “Kennedy, honey?”

  Her eyes filled with tears. She blinked them back, but one escaped and ran down her pale cheek.

  “Just tell me what happened.”

  She just shook her head. He grasped her elbow and lifted her to her feet. Then he led her inside the room. They moved to the bed where he eased her down, then went to the nightstand and poured a healthy shot of Jack. He placed the glass in her hand.

  “Drink it.”

  She looked at the glass, at him, then again at the glass. She took a deep breath and threw it back, swallowing hard and then coughing as the whiskey burned its way down to her stomach. He waited until she had settled a bit, and then asked, “Can you tell me about it now?”

  Kennedy took another deep breath. “I had to stab him. He wouldn’t let me go. I didn’t have a choice.”

  This was definitely not what Wylie had expected to hear. “Stabbed who?”

  “It wasn’t my fault. Judy Jane riled them all up, and he came after me. I had no choice.”

  “OK, baby, tell me who you stabbed.”

  “Weir.” She stated this last as if he wasn’t bright enough to follow the conversation.

  “Who is Weir?” He definitely wasn’t following this now.

  “You know, the guy you fed breakfast to.”

  “Oh yeah. I remember.”

  “They think I did it.”

  “Kennedy, honey, you just admitted you did it.”

  “Not him. Delie.”

  “Kennedy, I am totally confused. You aren’t making sense. Can you spell this out for me? ’Cause I am definitely not getting it.”

  She sighed in resignation and tried again. “OK. Judy Jane practically started a riot. Norma fired her, and she was pissed. In the excitement, Weir ran after me and knocked me down. I got scared and stabbed him in the shoulder.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, not really. But I think he would have.”

  “So it was self-defense.”

  “It isn’t that. It’s what Judy Jane said to get everybody so worked up. She said I killed Delie and you helped.”

  “Well, that’s just ridiculous, and you know it.”

  “Yeah, I know it. But everyone else thinks we’re guilty. I get so tired of being hated. Sometimes, it just wears me down.”

  Before he could respond, there was a knock on the door. Wylie opened it to find the sheriff. Wylie stepped aside to admit him into the room and then moved to Kennedy.

  “I figured you’d show up,” she said to him.

  “Heard you got a little nasty with Weir.”

  “Nothing he didn’t deserve,” she replied.

  “Sheriff, it was self-defense,” Wylie jumped in.

  “How do you know? You weren’t even there,” the sheriff responded.

  “Because Kennedy told me what happened, and I believe her.”

  “Maybe, but it was a bad choice of weapons.”

  “Well, the kitchen doesn’t stock .44 Magnums,” she spit out.

  “What?” Wylie was wondering if he would ever understand a conversation in this town.

  “Delie was stabbed,” Miller answered.

  “Oh shit,” Wylie said.

  “Yeah. Oh shit. The coroner is here now. We’ll know more later. Meanwhile, I have to take you in,” he said to Kennedy.

  “Take her in? What for?”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You stabbed Weir,” Miller said.

  “He asked for it. He woulda done worse to me.”

  “Maybe so, but he wants to press charges.”

  “Come on, Miller. I swear
to God it was self-defense. If you want to charge somebody with something, go after that slob Judy Jane for inciting a riot. She started the whole thing.”

  “That’s what Norma said.”

  “Norma? Oh my God, how is he?”

  Wylie raised an eyebrow at the newfound knowledge that Norma was a man. Then again, this was a small town in the South; no one seemed to have normal names.

  “He’ll live. So will Weir, if you care.”

  “Not so much. He’s a stupid bastard.” Her tone held bitterness.

  “Sheriff, it sounds to me like it’s Weir’s word against Kennedy’s. And let’s face it. As big as he is and as little as she is, it would look pretty ridiculous in court.” Wylie was convincing in his defense.

  Miller thought a moment, and then looked at Wylie. “You know, this was a quiet town before you showed up, Nichols.”

  “Bullshit,” Wylie retorted.

  “What about Delie?” Miller asked.

  “What about PJ?” Kennedy answered. “Wylie wasn’t even in town when PJ got killed.”

  “But you were,” Miller stated.

  “This is ridiculous,” Wylie said. “We’re both innocent. And I think you know it.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think or what I know. It’s what can be proved.” Miller shook his head and walked to the door. “Don’t—”

  “Leave town,” Wylie finished for him. “Got it.”

  Kennedy was clearly still upset. Wylie looked at her lovely face and wondered at the line between her brows.

  “Do you think this is my fault?” he asked.

  “I don’t honestly know,” she replied. It wasn’t the response he expected, and he was taken aback.

  “What do you mean you don’t know? What kind of a thing is that to say?”

  “You asked!”

  “Screw you,” he retorted, getting angry now.

  “Hey, I didn’t start this,” she said.

  “Well, neither did I. What do you think? That I just conveniently had my car break down in this dump of a town so I could find an innocent girl to murder?”